Frostbitten Fright
by venomoxide
Summary: Fifty years has passed since Jack Frost had been given the gift of being believed in. Things have changed and loneliness has started to creep back in, tapping at his shoulder. In a desperate attempt to save the children, he suggests something that surprises the darkest of them all - the Nightmare King. / Angst, BlackIce!pairing, somewhat dark!Jack.
1. Prologue

Jack Frost. It's a name that not many children know, aside from the lone line in a Christmas song. '_Jack Frost nipping at your nose...'_

Fifty years ago, all of that changed. Children started believing in him – really believing. It wasn't just a snow day. It was a snow day _because _of Jack Frost! And for a certain white-haired spirit, that was the most unbelievable thing to happen in all three hundred years of his existence. Suddenly, the children could see him. They knew his name, they believed in him, they thanked him for bringing them the beauty of Winter.

Nothing could have been better.

But, as everything in the world does, things began to change. Jaime grew up and began to forget about the magic of Winter, for favor of playing football and studying for his exams. Sophie eventually got married, giving birth to two beautiful children. College, bills, break-ups and fear ate away at all of the children's hearts, leaving no room for silly fables. Time withered on and the children who believed in him grew up, causing Jack Frost to once more, become a legend.


	2. Just Trouble

"Jack?" The fluttery voice of a certain fairy pulled his attention away from what he was doing (which, in all honesty, really wasn't much considering he was sitting cross-legged in North's workshop, a little toy airplane in his hands) and forced his gaze upwards. There, floating gracefully off the ground, was Tooth. Giving her a half-smile, Jack hopped up from where he had been sitting, setting the toy aside after one final spin of the propeller.

"Hey Tooth," he greeted, wondering why she had sought him out. Lately all the other Guardians had been intensely busy, making him feel a tad bit neglected. In fact, the more he thought about it, he realized he hadn't talked to North or Sandy in over two weeks. A nagging thought crept up in the back of his mind, sending an unwanted chill of fear down his spine. _Are they forgetting about me too? _

From behind Tooth's glittering wings, far off in the distance, Jack could see the faint glow that the globe emitted. Thousands upon thousands of tiny, glowing dots shone brightly. But they didn't shine for Jack. The reminder made him grimace, eyes falling to the floor beneath him as he stared at his frostbitten toes.

Suddenly, he was pulled from his thoughts, an intrusive pair of hands tugging his face upwards and his mouth open. Despite this being a regular occurrence, Jack still flinched every time, not used to anyone being in his face. "You really should floss more, Jack! I'm appalled... Your teeth used to be so perfect. Like freshly fallen snow..." Tooth trailed off, her bottom lip jutting out, as if she didn't realize that her fingers were still tugging at Jack's lips.

"Uh..." Jack tried to get her attention, the tiniest bit of annoyance flickering through the back of his mind. _Doesn't she have better things to do, aside from criticize my teeth? _The ferociousness of the thought surprised him and even though it hadn't been said out loud, made him feel a bit guilty. He was relieved, though, when Tooth's eyes widened and she fluttered back a few inches.

"Sorry Jack! I just can't help it..." She trailed off, a slightly nervous giggle passing through her lips. "Anyway, uh, North wanted me to let you know that you've kind of been... slacking in your Guardian duties. He wanted me to tell you to pick up the pace. Oh, and to not play with any of the toys. Christmas is right around the corner and he can't afford any to get broken." It looked as if she were about to say something else, however her head snapped to the side and she gave him an apologetic look. "Gotta dash, Jack! Teeth are calling!"

He stared after her for a few seconds until he was alone again, mind trying to process the words that she had said. Sometimes she talked so fast that Jack had a hard time keeping up. Suddenly it dawned on him, the hidden message behind what Tooth had said. ... _Can't afford any to get broken. _The ending of her tirade had stuck out like a sore thumb, true meaning blatant enough to slap Jack across the face. All he did was make a mess of things. North thought that, Tooth thought that, Bunny _definitely_ thought that...

There was another who did too. Pitch Black. However, he hadn't hidden behind false pretenses. The Nightmare King had come right out and said it to his face. Though it was a long time ago, Jack could still hear the scathing venom behind his words. Since then, however, Jack had took it upon himself to try and make amends. They didn't see each other every day, of course, but it was a slow and gradual process. Sometimes, when he was bored, Jack would find that hole in the ground, a few shards of wood stuck in the dirt and fly right in. Pitch like to pretend he was annoyed, but Jack could tell he enjoyed the company. They didn't do much, aside from insult each other and talk about random things.

It was in this horrible moment of thought that Jack realized an unsettling thought. Pitch Black had been more honest with him than his very own friends... The Guardians. The ones who were supposed to serve for justice and magic and all the things that made kids happy. Upset by this, Jack grabbed his staff, fingers tightening around it hard enough to stain his knuckles snow white. He let the wind build from nowhere, taking to the air as he tried to escape this place as quickly as he could. He couldn't take being cooped up anymore. In the process, the little airplane fell, crashing to the wood. Later North would find the broken toy, the propeller bent and the engine cracked, but he would not find Jack Frost.


	3. Freezing Rage

Shadowy darkness greeted azure blue eyes, making vision impossible for a few moments after his body had descended into the blackness. But, as it always did, his gaze adjusted and he could see the basic outline of spiralling staircases, that reached upwards for light they would never see. It was quiet here beneath the Earth and as Jack took a step forward, he could hear his own heart thumping in his chest. The journey here had taken him less than ten minutes, leaving him breathless and shaky. An exhalation of breath produced a small puff of air that disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

As he began to walk, his thoughts tried to shift back to anger, molding and churning like molten hot lava within his mind. They burned at him, creating an ebbing feeling of rage that he had not felt since the day he had finally been given his memories. But this time, it was different. He felt no rage towards the man in the moon or to fate – but rage towards those he called friends. He was sure that he would forget about it soon enough, anger melting away like his snow always did... but in this moment, he was seething.

He rounded the corner, stepping into the dim lighting that was provided by candles. They were shaped like human hands, a wick burning in the centre of the palms. Some of them had melted, causing the fingers to look distorted as they dripped down the sides. Fitting decoration for the palace of the Nightmare King.

"Hello Jack." The voice came from across the room, echoing against the stone walls in a way that still made a shiver dance up the winter spirit's spine.

Jack said nothing. He simply took a few cautious steps into the room, his gaze averted as he watched a nearby flame. It licked at the air, the same way his fury was licking at his senses. He wanted to destroy things... He wanted to create blizzards and ice storms and shroud the world in an icy mess. But he wouldn't. Because most of all, he just wanted someone to notice him again. With a soft sigh, he ran his finger down the side of the same candle, barely able to feel the heat from the freshly fallen wax. It promptly froze, gentle patterns of frost caressing their way up the side.

Suddenly, a shadow passed by the corner of his eye and he turned his head, greeted by a pair of golden eyes, peering at him in a curious manner. Pitch was no longer a few feet away, but instead, right beside him, staring down at the white-haired male with a quirked eyebrow.

"My, my... Someone looks glum today. Tell me, what could possibly bother the spirit of Winter enough to wipe that insolent grin off your lips?" Normally, Jack might have smiled, at least a little bit. Teasing each-other had become one of their main sources of communication. A strange way of building their odd and dysfunctional definition of a friendship. But his lips stayed turned down at the sides, those words still fresh in his mind.

_Can't afford any to get broken..._

Jack's lips curved downwards in an uncharacteristic snarl as he turned away from the taller male, fingers gripping his staff in an iron grip. "I'm not in the mood, Pitch," he replied, tone somewhat testy. He made a move to walk away, intent on freezing some more candles out of spite, before a sudden grip on his shoulder pulled him back.

"_Why are you afraid_?" The question was whispered against his ear, breath sudden and hot against his skin, causing Jack's eyes to widen a bit. Pitch had grabbed hold of him, lanky fingers encasing his shoulder with a relentless force. Jack froze for a moment, having grown unaccustomed to the dangerous side of the nightmare king. He quickly recovered, however, twisting away from the grip, stumbling back as he whipped around, legs bent at the knees as he took a defensive stance.

"I'm not afraid!" He replied with perhaps a bit too much passion, for instead of looking satisfied, Pitch tilted his head back and let out a thundering laugh. It echoed against the stone, ringing in Jack's ears, making his heart hammer faster against the confines of his chest. His grip tightened on his staff, emotions unable to deal with anything for much longer. With an almost feral roar that was brought to life from the depths of his throat, Jack slammed his staff onto the ground, causing a sudden blizzard of freezing air to erupt from around him. He continued to scream as he thrashed his staff around, slamming it against the walls that surrounded him, extravagant bursts of ice cascading down with each hit. After a few moments, his scream died down and he stood still, staff resting against the stone floor with a gentle 'click.'

Jack's breathing was labored, frostbitten tears clinging to the lower lashes of his eyes and without warning, he slumped to his knees, wood clattering beside him. His rage had won. He was glad, however, that it had happened underneath the Earth, where he was hidden from humanity. Had he harmed anyone in a bought of rage, he doubted he would be able to handle the guilt.

There was a thick silence that hung in the air, weighing down on Jack's back, pressing against his spine, as if it were trying to push him to the floor completely. His gaze was fixed on the grey beneath him, tears blurring his vision. With a slightly annoyed sniff, he wiped at them fiercely, hating the fact that he was even crying.

Suddenly, he found himself being picked up from the ground, a steady grip on the front of his hoodie lifting him into the air. His gaze snapped upwards, blue meeting gold in an uncertain stare. Pitch looked... disgruntled. As if he, for once, had no scathing words to offer. Instead, he simply stared at the younger boy in his grip, a line of confusion indenting the space between his eyebrows. Slowly, his fingers uncurled from their grip, releasing Jack as his hand fell back to his side.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Pitch lifted the staff with the aid of his nightmare dust, forcing it back into Jack's hand. Obediently, Jack let his fingers curl around it, his breathing fast and uneven. He didn't have to say much, for his outburst had said enough. Unspoken words had been passed between them and Jack knew what Pitch's response had been, even without having it verbalized. The nightmare king seemed to feel the need to bring the words to life anyway, accompanying them with an oddly gentle touch of his fingertips to Jack's tear-stained cheek.

"_I'm here."_


	4. Winter's Desperation

Days had passed since Jack had visited Pitch. Almost instantly after his outburst, Jack had been overcome with embarrassment and had fled, allowing the wind to carry him away. Since then, he had been alone. After all, loneliness was what he was best at. He understood how to be lonely. There was no one to disappoint, no messes to make...

Not to mention, Jack was confused. His emotions were like a blizzard, raging inside of him relentlessly. He felt as if the other Guardians didn't truly care about him. If they did, why hadn't they talked to him? Why was he simply pushed to the side and forgotten? It made his heart ache, feeling as if nothing had changed and he was still invisible, stuck in the perpetual state of nothingness that surrounded him. But then, Pitch had offered him a moment of kindness. The winter spirit could still feel the darkened fingertips against his skin, the sensation of the contact lingering through the days.

Shaking his head, Jack dropped down from the tree he had been sitting in, landing gracefully on the snow beneath him. His staff dragged behind him, leaving a line where he walked, trailing in the freshly fallen ice. There had been times when he wasn't so sad. But those times seemed farther away than ever. Before the Guardians had swept him up, telling him that the man in the moon had talked to them and that he was _important_ and _fun_ and that children _needed _him, he had been content with the quiet. With the loneliness.

But now, it was like it had been taken all away from him again. He didn't have a family – he had lost that when he first became Jack Frost. He didn't have children believing in him any longer – he had lost that in a short span of fifty years. And now... was he losing the Guardians too? The loneliness wasn't bearable, now that he had gotten a taste of affection and recognition and acknowledgement. It was suddenly an ache, tugging at his heartstrings, making his skin burn with the desire to be seen. He couldn't go back to nothing. He couldn't. He would go _insane._

Frustration welled up inside of him, causing him to kick the snow beneath his feet, watching as it scattered. With suddenly heavy breathing, he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.

"C'mon, Jack... You can do this, your..." He trailed off, eyes snapping open as he realized a frightening thing. He was talking to himself. While he had done it all the time before the man in the moon had chosen him for Guardianship, he hadn't done it since then. But now... he had started once more.

With a grip of fear caressing his spine, Jack took off into the air, letting the wind carry him up, up, up... The wind was harsher up here, making his eyes water with the velocity of the air. He was at a loss of oxygen, gasping and sputtering as he tried to pull his mind out of the terrible place it was headed. He felt manic. Panic and uncertainty were beginning to haze his mind and all he wanted was for someone to tell him that he was going to be alright! He wasn't going to be alone!

Suddenly, a lanky pair of arms were around him, shrouding him in darkness. The shadows covered his eyes, engulfing his entire body before he felt himself falling. Down, down, down... But he never hit the ground.

Instead, he simply stopped moving, still held in the surprisingly warm embrace that had encased him before. Slowly, the arms moved away, dropping him to the ground, his staff clattering beside him. Blinking a few times, attempting to adjust his eyes to the sudden glare from the snow around him, Jack lifted his hand to shield his eyes.

"Pitch?" The name left his lips in a moment of confusion. What was he doing here? Propping himself up on his elbow, Jack squinted up at the towering male, obvious uncertainty written across his features.

"Jack, Jack, Jack..." His name was repeated like a slow and patronizing taunt as the shadowy figure began to circle the frostbitten boy on the ground, resembling a predator who had caught their prey. "Must I remind you every time we meet that I can _smell _your fear?"

_Oh. Right._

Jack and Pitch had never established their... relationship. It couldn't be classified as a friendship, for sometimes, when Jack was particularly frustrated, the two would battle each-other, leaving the underground palace a disaster zone of ice and darkness. Nor could they call each-other enemies though, as the warm lingering tingling on Jack's cheek reminded him.

"What do you want?" The question was blunt, a bit of annoyance in his voice. He was pleased, though, for the distraction from his previously self-destructive thoughts. As he made a move to stand up, he reached for his staff, fingers curling slowly around the centre of it. Pitch was still circling him, golden hues focused directly on the back of Jack's head. The white-haired boy could feel his gaze burning into his scalp.

"I'm curious." Suddenly the voice was right by his ear again, venomous and surprisingly warm as Pitch's breath brushed against his skin. "Tell me what bothers you, Jack. We are... _friends, _aren't we? Perhaps I can help."

Jack ignored the shiver that danced up his spine, touching each vertebrae with precision and instead, spun around, his eyes watching the taller male warily. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that it was not the best idea to spill his secrets to the spirit of fear itself. But... no one else would listen. It had been days since anyone had talked to him... And so the words came rushing out, a gust of emotions causing the wind to follow suit, picking up pace with each hurried word that fell from Jack's lips.

"The Guardians aren't happy with me and they'll never be happy and the children can't see me anymore and I just can't go back to being alone – Pitch... I just, I can't do it and I was talking to myself and now I'm telling you everything because I'm just so_fucking_scaredthatI'llhavetobealoneforanother_godknows howmanyyearsandI.._." He finally stopped, the wind coming to a sudden stop as he took a deep breath, eyes wide as he stared at the shadowy male.

Pitch wore no expression. He simply stood, his arms crossed, eyes never leaving Jack's face. Moments passed, the only sound the faint rhythm of Jack's frenzied breathing. After thirty seconds of silence, Pitch moved closer, taking deliberate steps towards the boy. Once there was barely centimetres between them, he raised his hand, fingertips pressing against Jack's chest. They rest right above his heart, searching for the erratic heartbeat, thrumming away inside.

"My... You are frightened..." Pitch's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but nonetheless, it made Jack's skin tingle with uncertainty. Before he could reply, however, Pitch had moved away, suddenly feet away, lurking in the shadows. He was circling again, this time however, on a bigger scale. Jack tried to turn, each time he saw the flicker of shadow in the corner of his eyes, but the Nightmare King could not be seen. That would be too easy. And Jack knew very well that Pitch was trying to feed off his fear again, enjoying the way that his eyes darted about like a frightened animal. In fact, Pitch had blatantly told him that before...

_Jack's back was pressed against a particularly sharp rock, the corner of it digging into his spine as he tried to shift away. There was a frostbitten blush blossoming on his cheeks, taking over the pale flesh. Nails were digging into his wrists, leaving little crescents in the skin, where blood threatened to pool into the scratch._

"_L-Let me go, Pitch. I'm done! I don't want to fight anymore." Though their fighting somehow, in a blink of an eye, turned from shadows and ice colliding in the air, to Pitch having Jack pressed up against the wall. Jack's chest was heaving but he couldn't be sure if it was from physical exertion or the fact that he could literally see the serrated tips of Pitch's teeth from the cheshire grin across his face. _

"_But Jack, your fear is so... potent. I couldn't possibly let you go now. I feed off it, you know. It keeps me strong. That's why I give children nightmares..." Pitch's eyes narrowed, grin widening in a way that only made Jack struggle more, attempting to wriggle his body away from whatever terrible thing was being planned in the Nightmare King's head._

_Sudden pressure on his throat made his eyes widen, the sensation familiar to that of drowning – something he definitely did not want to live through again. His hands flew towards Pitch's arms, gripping them with a ferocity that turned his knuckles white. But, only a mere few seconds after Pitch's fingers had curled around his neck, giving it an experimental squeeze, they were gone. And so was Pitch._

_Jack fell to the floor, gasping for air and scrambling to find his staff. After that, he had avoided Pitch for some time. But the most disturbing thing was... he always went back._

The memory had flashed through his mind, followed by the hundreds of times that Pitch had forced Jack into a terrifying situation for his own personal gain. With a small shudder, he felt his eyebrows furrow. An idea had come to his mind, slowly building itself into something that seemed logical... Perhaps Jack was desperate, but he had to give it a shot.

"You feed off fear, right?" He called out into the air around him, unsure of where Pitch had hidden himself. "And that's the only reason you need to scare the children! So... w-what if you didn't feed of them, but of... me... instead?"

_Silence_.

Jack waited, able to hear the strong beat of his heart in his ears, thundering like a noisy beat. Swallowing the uncertainty in his throat, he took a few steps forward, eyes darting from one side of the forest, to the next. He could barely see, now, with the unnatural darkness that had begun to form. It tended to happen when Pitch stayed in once place for too long.

"You said before that my... That a Guardian's fear is worth more than that of a human! So take mine then! Give _me_ all your nightmares and leave the kids alone!" Jack's heart swelled with sudden hope. It could work! He could save the children from nightmares, leaving more room in their hearts for him!

Before he knew it, he saw the faintest flicker of black before he was pulled backwards, falling against Pitch's chest. The wind was knocked out of him, making him gasp for air. Though he tried, he only got a breath in before Pitch's fingers hooked under his jaw, forcing it up and backwards, so Jack had to stare at him, his neck exposed to the cool air.

"Is this what you really want, Jack? I won't let you change your mind... Yes? Or no?" The tone was warning and Jack knew that Pitch was serious.

There was the faintest moment of hesitation, wavering across his features before it was taken over by desperation. This was his last chance. His only hope. And so, he tried to nod, adams apple bobbing painfully as he realized how tight Pitch's grip was on his jaw. He had to say it.

"Yes."


	5. Nightmare Begins

The air around him was cold, temperature certainly below freezing despite the fact that he was nestled quietly into a corner of North's workshop. A deal had been made. However, things hadn't gone quite as Jack had expected them to go. He had thought that the nightmares would start suddenly, the moment the word 'yes' had left his lips. But instead, Pitch had quietly let go of his jaw, disappearing into the shadows as he let out a quiet and dark chuckle.

Jack hadn't seen him since.

When he had returned to the workshop, the yetis had been hesitant to let him back in. North really didn't want him around. With only a few weeks left until Christmas, the elder male was obviously far too busy to deal with the mischievous winter spirit. This was something that Jack found ironic. Their work went hand in hand together. After all, everyone wished for a white Christmas. And who else could provide that but Jack himself?

With his knees pulled to his chest and chin resting against his knee, he could barely calm his thoughts down. He felt restless. This restlessness had caused hundreds of freak snowstorms to hit poor, unsuspecting towns, leaving them cursing Winter's name. But he couldn't bring himself to care. Pitch had offered to help him! But nothing had changed. He wasn't getting nightmares or strange visions or... whatever it was that Pitch needed to force upon him in order to satiate his dark desires.

Azure eyes closed, hidden behind thin eyelids, frost clinging to his lashes. "I can't do this anymore..." Had anyone been in the room with him, all they would have heard was a gentle exhalation of breath, ghosting out into the air. But Jack knew very well what this meant. He was still talking to himself, having no one else to provide conversation for him.

_Jack..._

His head snapped up, eyes suddenly wide with surprise. Glancing around the room, Jack's eyebrows furrowed, surprise evident on his features. Someone had said his name. Hopping down from the window seat he had been curled up on, he grabbed for his staff, taking a few hesitant steps across the floor.

_You know where to find me. _

There it was again. But this time, Jack realized that it hadn't come from inside the room. It had come from inside his head. And he would recognize that chilling, baritone tone anywhere. _Pitch_.

Without a second thought, he raced through the doorway, rounding a corner before he ran straight into someone else, almost knocking both of them down to the ground. Or, well, almost knocking himself to the floor anyway. The other person couldn't possibly be knocked over, considering their size.

"Sorry, North!" Jack apologized, rubbing his nose, surprised that he didn't break it with how solid the jolly man's chest was. When he glanced up, however, two pairs of blue eyes meeting, he was surprised by the look on his face. He had never seen North look so... intimidating.

"Jack. I thought Yetis told you to stay out of workshop, no? Too close to Christmas to have you running around carelessly. I am sorry, Jack, but is way it has to be." And without even taking a second to notice the moment of pain flickering through Jack's eyes, North side-stepped the shorter male, his boots thudding as he walked away, grumbling to himself about getting no peace and quiet.

Standing in place for a few moments, Jack stared after him, feeling his heart sink. So it _was_ true then. North really didn't want him around. In a moment of foolish, childish belief, Jack had convinced himself that maybe Tooth had gotten the wrong message, or had told him the wrong thing. But no. Everyone knew but him.

Jack Frost was trouble.

With an overwhelming feeling of betrayal welling up inside of him, Jack raced down the hallway, feet padding against the floor as he did. Moving faster than ever, he reached the closest window, causing it to burst open with a gust of wind before he jumped out, taking straight to the sky. The stained glass shattered, cascading down in a thousand pieces, acting as a message to the other Guardians. Jack would not be back if he was not wanted.

Though he made it to the ominous hole in the ground in record time, he had also exhausted himself. Even with the wind's help, it was still hard work. His cheeks were stained with blue, from the biting wind cutting at his skin and his fingertips had started to turn a dull navy. As he descended into the darkness once more, he took a deep breath of the musky air that greeted him. The sound of his bare feet against the stone could be heard, echoing around him as he walked, staff dragging against the ground. This time, he made no effort to be quiet, instead announcing his presence without restrain.

"_Pitch_!" The name echoed back to him, ringing in his ears, his own anger evident in the sound of his voice. He had finally reached the clearing, where the hallway expanded into a bigger room. The globe was still a few feet away, lights glowing brightly as they dotted the map. There wasn't much else in hear, save for a few staircases of stone that reached to higher parts of the shadowy castle.

"What the _hell_ are you doing in my head?!" He yelled again, knowing that his tone was far too demanding, but not being able to bring himself to care. He was angry. He wanted to destroy something. And for a moment, he had stupidly forgotten about his heroic deal made with the Nightmare King. With a heaving chest and blazing eyes, Jack turned around in circles, willing the other male to show up, so he could cast a wave of ice in his direction.

However, when a shadowy figure did appear, the words that penetrated the air stopped Jack short.

"You asked for me to be there, Jack."

Pitch was standing less than a few feet away, nightmare sand swirling at his feet, occasionally rising up to lick at the air like an angry serpent, hungry for destruction. His lips were spread in a wicked grin, seeming far too pleased with how all of this was turning out. Here was the newest Guardian. Alone and afraid and _oh so vulnerable. _

It was a delightful thing to see.

Jack's eyes narrowed. He remembered now, of course, but that didn't put out the fire of rage inside of him. He just wanted someone to notice him!

"_Shut up,_" he seethed, grip on the staff tightening as he seemed to steady himself, feet parting so he could take more of a fighting stance. This only pulled the slightest chuckle from Pitch, his eyes rolling in blatant amusement.

"I didn't bring you here to fight, Jack. Do you not remember our deal?" Pitch began to walk in a slow, deliberate circle, not seeming bothered by the fact that the icy spirit before him was practically shaking with rage, slowly following every move the nightmare king made.

"I know you're angry. I would be too. Believe me, I know... But right now, you have to focus on what you want the most..." Pitch stopped, his eyes snapping back to meet Jack's with a devious murmur from inside the golden hues. He was suddenly right in front of the shorter boy, shadows threatening to drown out Jack's view with a sudden cover of darkness. All Jack could focus on was the gold, coercing him into a relaxed state. His staff slipped from his fingers, hitting the ground with a harsh clattering noise.

"You want to save the children. You want them to be happy and nightmare free, so they can finally believe in you again..." Pitch trailed off, a grey finger coming up to caress a gentle line down the side of Jack's jaw, ending at his chin, where he forced the white-haired boy to arch his neck upwards. "That... _is _what you want, right Jack?"

Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat and ignoring the twisting knot of fear that had begun to create itself, making it harder to breathe properly, Jack nodded. He would give anything to have the children believe in him.

To have _anyone _believe in him.

His answer pulled a wicked smile from the shadowy man staring down at him, his golden eyes seeming to shine with a twisted sense of victory.

"_Then let's begin._"

That was the last thing Jack heard before darkness overtook his vision, his head swimming with a sudden weight that pulled him to the ground, the faint echo of a chilling laugh permeating the sudden blackness.

The nightmare had begun.


End file.
